


Boys Liking Boys They Don't Like

by Ylith



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/Ylith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this Prompt: Rivalry AU where either Arthur or Eames works at an ice cream shop and the other works in a frozen yogurt shop. Their shops may have a rivalry, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a crush on each other!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys Liking Boys They Don't Like

**Author's Note:**

> I filled one of Lola's prompts cause she was overloaded. Be sure to check out her other prompt fills over here at her page! : http://archiveofourown.org/works/2316962/chapters/5100311 She's got Arthur/Eames, Bane/Blake, Tommy/Jon, Tommy/Adam, and any other combination of Tom Hardy/JGL characters you can think of!

Arthur grumbled, shaking his bike chain angrily as the key yet again refused to turn in the old lock. He’d been meaning to replace it for ages as it had been progressively gotten harder to open, but couldn’t believe it chose this exact moment to quit him completely. Tonight of all nights, after closing the fucking ice cream parlour he worked in after working a double for fucking Becky who NEVER covered a single shift for him. 

He pulled out his phone, which was of course almost freaking dead. Could the night get any worse?

As if on cue, a voice rang out behind him, “Fancy meeting you here, Artie!”

Arthur groaned, his head falling back petulantly. Of course it was Eames, the cherry on top of the Sundae that was his evening. Eames who worked at the Frozen Yogurt shoppe which opened a mere four months ago in tackily close proximity to the Ice Cream parlour Arthur had worked at since he was thirteen. Eames with the fullest lips Arthur had ever seen and an equally full ego to match. He loved nothing more than tormenting Arthur, taking potshots at Arthur’s work ethic, his place of business, his khakis. 

“Eames,” he said, forcing a smile as he turned and offered the other boy a stiff salute. “You’re working late.”

Eames laughed. “Working? Lord no, we closed ages ago. My manager left his laptop in the office so I made some hardcore gay porn his desktop background, did the old trick where I hid all the icons he he won't be able to change it. He’s totally gonna die when he sees it.” Eames’ crooked grin split from ear to ear, looking mighty proud of himself. 

Arthur pressed his lips into a firm line. “Charming,” he said, dropping down to make one last effort at getting his lock undone. It was too late to call his mother and he REALLY didn’t want to walk home again. 

Eames loomed above him, head cocked as he looked down at Arthur’s fumblings. “You really work too hard, darling, if a bike lock is getting the best of you. You knocked up a bird or something? Got some gambling debts to pay off before they shatter your ankles?”

“Some of us just take pride in a good day’s work,” Arthur grit out, looking about for a rock to try and break his lock open and wondering if Eames’ thick skull could serve as a decent alternative.

Eames laughed again. “You sell Ice Cream, Arthur, hardly something worth wasting the best years of your life!”

Arthur huffed. “Says the guy who spent 2 hours looking for porn to put on his boss’ computer. Keep reaching for the stars, Eames...Fuck!” He cursed in pain as he twisted the key hard and managed to bent his nail back, pain shooting through his finger. 

“Alright there, Artie?” Eames asked, brows furrowed in a passing imitation of genuine concern.

Arthur sighed. “My stupid lock,” he said. “I can’t get the key to turn anymore...fuck I don’t wanna walk home...”

Eames crouched down beside him, shooing him aside with a soft “give us some space” before trying the lock himself. He grunted, trying it a few more times before trying to pull the key out. 

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked.

“Trying to get the key out so I can pick the lock,” Eames said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Pick the lock?” Arthur asked, voice low and tone dubious. “Yeah ok, master criminal.”

Eames grinned over at him, eyes bright as he kept tugging at the key. “You wound me, Arthur. Do I really seem so incapable to you?”

Arthur shrugged. “Not so much incapable, more that lockpicking seems like a skill you’d have to put effort into learning, and you strike me as more the underachieving type.”

“What?” Eames scoffed. “How do you figure?”

Arthur shrugged again, brows rounding. “Seriously? Look where you work.”

Eames’ head whipped over again, laughter infuriatingly trickling from his mouth. “Are you barmy? We work in the same business.”

“No we don’t,” Arthur insisted. “I sell ice cream.”

“And what do you think I sell?” Eames asked, brow quirked. “Crack to toddlers?”

“You sell frozen yogurt for godsakes,” Arthur deadpanned, pushing Eames away so he could try the lock one last time. 

“And your point is?” Eames asked. “They are basically the same thing. 

“Please,” Arthur rebuffed. “Frozen Yogurt is basically ice cream’s underachieving deadbeat brother. Ice cream is a quality dessert which we actually make in house. You sell toppings for marginally chilled ice milk.”

Eames sat down fully on the chilled concrete, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t be so snobbish, Arthur! Our customers get the freedom of choice. Their five bucks get them whatever combination they can think up. 5 bucks at your place gets you one sad lonely flavor.”

“But it’s a great flavor made with natural ingredients,” Arthur cut in. “Yours is a combination of corn syrup and Lake Blue 40.”

Eames leaned forward, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Go out with me,” he said with a cheeky smile. 

Arthur shot back, mouth agape in surprise. “What? No!” He scrambled to his feet, turning on his heel and quickly heading down the road towards his house. He adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder, forcing himself to not look back. Eames was by far one of the cutest guys Arthur had ever seen, but he was annoying and on top of that, did didn’t even like Arthur! He was always teasing him and calling him ridiculous nicknames and-

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. 

Fuck...Eames did like him! He thought of all the playful banter, of all the times Eames had loitered after work to get his bike the same time Arthur did even though, as Eames himself admitted, his shop closed hours earlier. 

Arthur jumped when Eames pulled up beside him on his bike, feet skidding along the pavement. 

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” Eames asked, eyes flicking to the front of his bicycle. 

“What, on the handlebars?” Arthur asked, incredulous. 

Eames shrugged. “Why not? It’s better than walking.”

Arthur was certainly not looking forward to the long walk home, but he also doubted the metal handlebars would be any more comfortable, not to mention he couldn’t fully trust Eames not to run him into a bus or something. 

Eames seemed to sense his trepidation and gestured behind him. “Or you could hang on back here, I’ve got pegs on my wheels you can stand on. Still a lot quicker than walking.”

Arthur nibbled his lower lip, considering. “Ok,” he said, ignoring Eames’ triumphant smile as he climbed aboard the pegs and tentatively put his hands on Eames’ shoulders to steady himself. Eames’ broad, hard, muscular shoulders. 

After getting Arthur’s address, they started off. Arthur enjoyed the wind in his hair, the heat radiating off of Eames’ back against him. Against his better judgement, he found himself smiling. When they went down a particularly steep hill, Arthur wrapped his arms tight around Eames’ shoulders, his hands accidentally bumping Eames’ chest. At least, the first time was accidental. Arthur was glad Eames couldn’t see the flush in his cheeks from feeling the other boy’s muscular chest, imagining what it would look like under his ridiculous shirt. He told himself he was only liking it because Eames was quiet, but deep down he knew better. 

When they got to Arthur’s house, he found himself wanting to tell Eames to go around the block one more time. 

“You know if you don’t have your bike tomorrow, I can give you another ride,” Eames said over his shoulder when Arthur finally got down. 

“Thanks,” Arthur said, fingers gripping the strap of his bag and eyes downcast. “And thanks for the ride.”

“I could even take you to the cinema on Saturday,” Eames said with a smirk. “This bad boy goes all over.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but found himself saying “Ok.”

Eames’ eyes went wide with pleasant surprise, his brows climbing into his hairline when Arthur leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek. 

Arthur shushed him when Eames began to open his mouth. “Don’t ruin this!” he said, finger up in warning. “You’re so fucking cute right now, for god sake don’t ruin it by talking.”

Eames waggled his brows, but to his credit, didn’t ruin it.


End file.
